Chuya Nakahara motorcyclist.au.

Nakahara has been passionate about motorcycles since he was fifteen. He never missed a single race on TV and collected posters. He was especially fond of the young motorcyclist Dazai Osamu.

A young racer who had been winning races since he was eighteen. Chuya dreamed of seeing him in person at least once. He didn't want an autograph, a gift helmet, or a handshake. Just seeing him on the track was enough.

At eighteen, Chuya realized his dream. He went to the race he'd been dreaming about, and most importantly, Osamu was there. He saw him in person, and his heart fluttered with joy.

After the show, Chuya was returning home, happy with the photos he'd taken of his idol on his phone. He was so overjoyed that he didn't even notice he'd turned down a completely different alley. He only bumped into something, looked up from his phone, snorted, and turned to leave. Someone grabbed him, covering his mouth. More drug addicts. Of course, Nakahara wasn't the timid type, even if he was short. He fought back, tried to escape, but it wasn't that easy; the guy twisted his ankle and was already ready for the end.

The roar of a motor came from the road. The bandits retreated, and the stranger scooped Chuya up in his arms. The redhead didn't even have time to realize it, but he didn't immediately swear either. He didn't know who was carrying him, as his helmet covered his face. The stranger lifted the boy onto the back of the motorcycle, and soon they sped away from this backwater.

Arriving at least in a brighter place, Chuya climbed off the motorcycle, barely able to stand on one leg. "Let me help you? It's better to just drive to the hospital," came the stranger's muffled voice.

"Who the hell are you anyway!? How should I know? Maybe you're a worse bandit?" the redhead muttered, clinging to the motorcycle with displeasure.

"Oh... Pardon me!" the stranger chuckled softly and, removing his helmet, Chuya froze and stared at the man with genuine shock. He'd expected anyone but... his idol—Osamu himself. Chuya froze, unsure of what to say, his mouth hanging open.